Hello, my name is Kyle Smith and this is my Six Foot Giraffe. A growing collection of personal art, thoughts, and memories. Since 2007.

From the archive.
(2007 - 2022)

The good, the bad, the ugly, the happy and the sad. Randomly selected and brought to the forefront because 15 years seems enough time gone by for the past to be worth exploring. See more →

UGH. I misspelled “their.” Just the worst.

It’s that time again. Kicking off Inktober 2022. I’ll only be doing the half marathon this year to make room for some other ongoing creative projects. Wish me luck!

We were already more than halfway across the country for my cousin’s wedding, so we figured we may us well just keep on going. We spent nearly a week in New York to catch up with Alexis’ brother Tony, Olivia and our Godson Gnarly. We stayed in an Airbnb they manage, in the same building they live in, in Green Point. It was a homerun and really let us get the most out of our time together.

In all my visits to New York, this trip was the closest I’ve ever come to grasping what it might actually be like to live there. From getting around, to spending time where I’d probably be hanging out, and of course speculating how far your money can go. Or more accurately how far it doesn’t. There was a lot of walking, lot of exploring. More so than any of my past long weekend or whirlwind work New York trips. I think my clearest takeaway was just how hard living there must be. Financially, physically, mentally. At least relative to my own day to day. Some abstract promise of New York City has always sat firmly in the back of my mind though. Always the thought that maybe someday I’d live there and truly experience it. I still feel it even now, but the door to that life has just about closed I think. I did it backwards. Los Angeles should’ve been the reward for putting in years of surviving in New York City. Luckily, we’ve got airplanes and some New Yorkers that’ll always be glad to see us.

It wasn’t a quick trip, but it felt that way. In other words, we had fun. Exploring the Whitney, strolling Central Park, treking through Green Point, conquering bridges and obviously eating and drinking to excess some of the best a neighborhood had to offer. I also quickly learned my new favorite mode of transportation in New York City is the Ferry. Most important of all though, we saw the ones we’d been missing, which is exactly what we set out to do. Thanks for having us.


















Marco and Kelly tied the knot. We laughed, we drank, we photo-boothed, and we most certainly danced. It was a fun night and we were thankful to have been included. Although the majority of my extended family lives in Illinoise, I don’t get out that way too often. It was a great chance to make some fun memories with plenty of aunts, uncles, and cousins that I hardly see. From dropping in on my Uncle Vince and Aunt Enza’s restaurant for a quick cannoli, to gathering in full force at my Aunt Marie’s house for Italian beef sandwiches, where Uncle Santo uncorked a few bottles of his homemade wine.

I’m kicking myself for not getting any photos from the day we spent at my Aunt Susie and Uncle Perry’s house with the Smith branch of the family. I blame the lapse of judgement on those martinis Aunt Susie whipped up for us.

All around, a quick but potent long weekend. Congrats Marco and Kelly, and thanks for having us.







Celebrating five years of marriage. We had fun at dinner, comfortable in our typical way of joking and being weirdos together. Exactly how we like it. But a drink or two after this photo, we got to talking about how challenging our marriage has been. Now this isn’t news to either of us, not at all, but I wanted to write and preserve that truth here, and keep it as a reminder to myself that photographs aren’t undisputed evidence of everything being all sunshine and rainbows, all the time. My photos, or anyone else’s. It’s an easy thing to forget. Things inevitably get hard, and our response as partners to those hard times decide whether we sink, or whether we swim.




I’ve always loved biking around the city. I wrote a little about that before here. While it was true when I wrote that, that I’d ridden a bike more days than I hadn’t in 10 years, I definitely can’t say the same thing since covid and remote work started. My daily commute was where I got the majority of my biking in, but I haven’t had a commute in nearly 3 years. So I set out to bike 100 miles for August. Not a hard distance to bike in a month, but the whole idea was to just get out there and have some fun again. So that’s what I did.

Somedays I biked to lunch, somedays biked for errands, and somedays I had no agenda or direction at all. Just rode to ride. Heading down any which street offered the path of least resistance. Meaning wherever there was a green light or a wide street. Even snuck in an 18 mile round trip to and from the beach one day. A sure way to make a cold drink even colder.

It’s a hell of a feeling riding no hands with arms stretched wide and the wind pushing through your fingers. And that’s really the highlight of the month I think, the pure fun of it. The month was also a reminder to not let biking slip away any further than I’ve already let it. A fun bonus was passing a slower moving cyclist who seemed shocked that anyone could even be going faster than he was, but more specifically, when he broke the awkward silence inherit when passing and asked, “Man, what is it.. ? Is it you, is it the bike.. or..?” We both started cracking up, and I told him I’d just been at it a long time. Stranger, you made my day.

The good times, with the good people. A lot of bands on the roster for “This Ain’t No Picnic” in Pasadena, plenty of which my “age to coolness ratio” didn’t qualify me to have even heard of before. Even still, we caught plenty of music. LCD Soundsystem, Idles, Beach House, The Strokes, and I finally got to see Pheobe Bridgers for the first time. She’s been on heavy rotation through my speakers the past few years.

“Someday” by The Strokes

I’ve loved this song since I first heard it, over twenty years ago. Long back enough that younger generations are starting to cover it, and I’m falling in love with it all over again.

“Someday” by Julia Jacklin

Geographer at the Troubadour. I think she had fun.

Verona by Geographer

Still chipping away on my indie game project. New environment and puzzle design.

Our longtime friend Christina de Guzman, who we affectionately call “Goose” is moving to Portland. A big group of us saw her out in style by getting together to surprise her at a boozy brunch. Afterwards, we hopped on a party bus and shot over to some of our old haunts and neighborhoods. A final Tour-de-LA. From West Hollywood, to Venice, to Downtown to Mid City. We were a big group, but these 5 brave souls you see here were the last standing by nights end, and arguably the ones history, or at the very least the ones the photo-booth, remembers.

It is an odd thing becoming slowly but surely estranged to a city I’ve lived so long in, one lost familiar face at time. Ultimately though, there’s few things more inspiring than watching a friend leap into the unknown in order better their life. We’ll miss you Goose, upwards and onwards!

I understand I’m not the most sophisticated man, and that I’ve got a lot of life still yet to walk, but I was in utter disbelief at this shower setup at our Airbnb. Particularly that it seemed to require some sort of advanced degree to operate it. Not pictured here, are even more knobs nearby.

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